and he was a cold-blooded killer, or was he a grieving husband. He sighed again as he moved a loaf of cocktail rye bread so it wouldn’t get squished by a bottle of Kalamata olives.
“Thanks for asking.” I thought he was going to leave it at that, but then he continued on. I wasn’t sure if he needed to vent or he was trying to work up sympathy. He began by talking about the shock of coming home to find Kelly. I noticed he seemed a little weak-kneed and I suggested we sit down by the closed coffee kiosk.
I started by saying it seemed like too much of a burden for him to have to arrange the reception after the funeral. “I’d be glad to handle it. I’m sure I can get your neighbor Dinah Lyons and her friend Commander Blaine to help.” He gratefully accepted.
“And then to have the cops all over me.” He was leaning on his knees, clasping his hands. He lifted his head and looked at me directly. “You don’t think I killed my wife, do you?”
This is where I started to play stupid cop. “The cops think you killed Kelly?” I tried to sound shocked at the thought. He reacted with relief.
“Good. I was afraid the word on the street was that I did it. It’s crazy. Why would I want to kill Kelly?”
The list of reasons clicked off in my head. There was the big insurance payment I heard he was getting. There was the fact that they weren’t getting along and another divorce would break him. Then there was what the assistant manager of Dan’s store said about him being upset that Kelly wouldn’t help out at the store. And what about whatever was going on between him and Nanci Silvers. I just gave him a sympathetic smile.
“I thought at least my kids would be here, but under the circumstances my ex is keeping them. Kelly’s kids are staying with her ex. I don’t know what to do.” He seemed like he might cry. He was seeming less and less like a cold-blooded murderer and more and more like someone Detective Heather had just latched onto. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.
“I’m just curious. When you came home that day, did you ring the doorbell?”
“That’s a strange question,” he said. “Why do you ask?”
I hate it when people answer a question with a question. It comes across like they are trying to avoid something. I started viewing him as the cold-blooded killer again. Maybe I’d catch him off guard by seeming sympathetic.
“I’m sure the cops will drop it. What evidence do they even have?” I said.
He took a breath and nodded. “Exactly. They tested my hands, no residue of gunpowder. Just because I’m the one who found her doesn’t mean anything.”
“Then the obvious question is who did kill her?” I waited a beat before continuing. “What about your neighbor, Nanci Silvers? How well do you know her?”
He stood up and prepared to leave. “I don’t know her at all.”
I checked his eyes. No surprise he was looking away.
Even though it was late by the time I finally got home with my ice cream, I called Dinah. Commander was with her and they both were enthusiastic about putting on the reception, but for different reasons. Commander liked to arrange any kind of gathering, particularly if it helped someone out during a tough time. On the other hand, after hearing that Dan claimed not to know Nanci, Dinah saw it as an investigation opportunity. While I was on the phone, Barry and Jeffrey walked in, arguing.
“But Dad, I don’t see why I can’t just ride over to our place. I can go up stairs.”
Barry’s face looked stormy. “There’s no discussion. Give me your key.”
I had to stick my finger in my free ear to be able to hear Dinah. She picked up on their fussing.
“Barry seems to be having a hard time letting Jeffrey be independent,” she said. I just murmured an uh-huh in response. Dinah and I finished her call and I finally sat down to my ice cream dinner. I had the kitchen to myself for only a moment before Barry popped in.
“I thought I’d have some tea.” He opened the cupboard I had given over to them and took out several boxes. “I owe you some tea bags.” He undid the cellophane and started to take some out. I told him to forget it, but he insisted on at least making